Everlasting
by Ladya C. Maxine
Summary: Shunned by his elfen and human peers alike, Estel hopes to find a friend in Legolas, but their friendship is quickly put to the test when they fall into enemy hands...ON HIATUS
1. Archery Lessons

Title: Everlasting

Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine

Rating: T

Summary: Two youngsters from two very different races find something in common: friendship.

Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of its characters. Any and all unrecognizable characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intent to entertain.

A/N: I know that in the books Legolas is FAR older than Estel/Aragorn but for this story I'm making them both about 10 years old.

26 Sept. 2006: This story was in desperate need of a re-write, so I re-wrote :P

* * *

**Everlasting**

_By Ladya C. Maxine_

* * *

"Can I come?"

Sighing, Elladan turned to find Estel standing right behind him, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. How it was that the child always knew when they were heading out on a hunting excursion was a mystery to him. Not that he didn't enjoy his little brother's company, but ever since they'd arrived in Lothlorien to celebrate his grandfather's, Lord Celeborn's, birthday he and Elrohir had been spending time with their friends, whom they didn't get to see often, going out hunting or simply riding. Estel, despite his best efforts, would only serve to slow them down.

Gracefully crouching, he gave Estel a sympathetic look.

"Estel, you know you can't come."

"Please, Elladan? I'll try my best," Estel promised convincingly.

"We know you would, but still..." Elrohir appeared leading his horse by the reigns, followed by five other elves. All were dressed for riding.

"But—"

"Estel…"

"Please?"

"Estel," Elladan warned, firmer this time.

"Okay…See you later…"

Placing a fond hand on the curly hair, Elladan rose and joined his brother and friends on horseback. Estel watched longingly as they spurred their horses and swiftly disappeared into the trees.

He stood there for several minutes trying to decide what to do. The elves were busy with preparations for the grand celebration. Royalties from all over had been invited and most had already arrived, including many elven children. He hadn't managed to speak to any of them yet but at least he wouldn't be the only child at the party.

Growing bored, he decided to go back to his chambers. Perhaps his father was available.

He found the ancient elf on the terrace overlooking where the celebrations were going to be held. The dark haired lord was in conversation with his in-laws, the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien themselves. Gandalf the Grey, who was one of the guest and also the fireworks master, sat with them, laughing and smoking his pipe. Since it was an open area this didn't bother the elves, who didn't smoked.

"Good day, young Estel," the wizard greeted him, being the first to spot him. "And why the glum face? This is a time for merriment."

Elrond looked over at his youngest with concern.

"Estel, are you alright?"

Estel moved over to where he sat and laid a head on his father's shoulder.

"Do you miss your brothers already, little one?" Galadriel asked knowingly.

"Yes, my lady."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Those two will be back in two days. They wouldn't dare miss their grandsire's birthday. Unless they are looking forward to spending some time in the dungeons," Gandalf said, glancing over at Celeborn. The silver haired lord rose an elegant brow but remained silent, as was his wont.

"Mithrandir's right, Estel; Elladan and Elrohir will be back soon enough. Why don't you go practise with your new bow and arrow? You've been wanting to do that for days. There is an archery field near the lake," Galadriel said.

He wasn't up to it, but he took the obvious hint that he was interrupting something and that the adults would like to resume whatever it was he had interrupted. Nodding with little enthusiasm, he bowed and left.

"It's hard for him," Celeborn said once he was gone.

"Growing up amongst a race so different from one's own always is. I brought him along in hopes that he could make some friends. There are no elven children in Rivendell. Maybe here he'd feel more confident amongst his peers," Elrond said.

"We shall just have to wait and see," Gandalf muttered around his pipe.

* * *

As he walked towards the practice field Estel felt his mood lighten when he heard laugher. Clearing the trees, he saw a large group of elflings talking animatedly on the grassy field, trying to outshoot one another or just enjoying the sunny weather. Excited, he ran. The group went totally silent, all eyes on him.

"Hi, I'm Estel, son of Lord Elrond," he said at one go, breathless. It was redundant, but it was the norm that elven children always identified their parents when introducing themselves. He held out a hand.

"And…are we supposed to be impressed?"

Estel's smile wavered and he looked around him uncertainly, taken back by the cold reception. The elflings who had spoken, a taller youth with light brown hair, stepped forward.

"What do you want?" he demanded to know.

"I…um…" Estel played with his bowstring. "I wanted to…um…wanted to…"

"Are all mortals as vocal as you? It's a wonder humans have been around long enough to actually learn how to write."

The other elflings laughed, encouraging the one-sided conflict.

Estel felt his tears building, but he fought them back.

"I wanted to practice with you," he said softly.

"Practice? With us? I don't know. What do you think?" he asked the rest. All shook their heads. "Well, there you have it. Get lost."

"Why are you so mean? Did I say something wrong?" Estel asked, genuinely at a lost to their hostility.

"You are what's wrong," the leader said. "Everything about mortals is wrong. You come around with your clumsy selves; killing nature to build those hideous things you call cities. My father says that we should never mingle with your kind."

"I've never seen those cities. Ada raised me—"

"That's 'Lord Elrond' to you, _boy_. You certainly have no manners."

"He's my ada!" Estel defended. "He lets me call him that and he looks after me."

"I've heard about that as well. You're the human whose parents were killed by orcs. By orcs! My father can defeat dozens of them without getting so much as a scratch and yours got themselves killed by a mere handful. Then again, I suppose it was for the best. Too bad you survived it, though."

That did it. He could no longer hold back the tears and they started to run down his cheeks. He wiped them away.

The brown haired elf smiled triumphantly and turned his back to the human.

"Can't believe they called you Hope. Hopeless is a much better name."

Laughing and taunting, they left him standing alone on the field, their long, shining hair glittering as they ran, joking amongst themselves.

He too ran. Spinning around, Estel headed into the woods, away from the city. His vision was blurred with tears as he fled through the trees.

'Why is it so difficult? Why do they hate me?'

He was so caught up he didn't see the stone on the path. His toe struck it painfully and he stumbled, landing hard on the ground, cutting his palms and elbows. His bow and his arrows went flying and landed in a series of clatters and clicks around him. Despite his burning wounds, he didn't rise. Sobbing, he buried his head in his arms.

'It's not fair! I didn't do anything wrong!'

"…Are you okay?" a hesitant voice suddenly asked from above.

Estel started and looked up into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. An elfling, kneeling before him on the path, with golden hair and a worried expression.

Not answering, Estel wiped his tears on his sleeves. His bleeding hands were caught at the wrist. The elfling turned them over, examining them carefully, minding not to touch the aggravated flesh.

"They're not deep," he concluded. "Here, just wash off the dirt."

Accordingly holding out his hands, Estel winced as the cold water was poured onto the hot skin but the effects were almost instant and he sighed, content.

"Just keep them clean and you'll be fine," the blond advised. Rising, he started to pick up the scattered arrows.

Estel had been unable to say anything the entire time. Finally finding his manners, he quickly joined in. They worked in silence and before long all the arrows were back in his quiver.

"Thank you," he said shyly.

The elfling smiled but when he picked up Estel's bow he frowned. The bowstring had snapped. Estel hurried over, feeling another set of tears coming on. The bow had been the first weapon his father ever gave him.

"Don't worry. I can fix it," the elfling promised. "Ada taught me how."

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Sure. But not here.I know a great place we can repair it. When it's done we can practice."

"I'm not very good..." Estel trailed but the elfling was already leading him off the path. It was then that Estel noticed the quiver and bow on the elfling's back. "I'm Estel, by the way," he said, this time purposefully omitting his father's name and title.

"Legolas," the blond answered, also not caring to identify his father.

They reached a large clearing, in the middle of which stood a lonely boulder. Legolas easily jumped up onto it and sat down cross-legged. Uncertain, Estel sat beside him.

"Give me your bow."

Estel did and watched in fascination as Legolas took out a small dagger and cut away the remaining string. Taking the pack he had with him, he rummaged through it and withdrew a roll of bowstring. Cutting off the precise measurement, he then took five long strands of his own hair and wrapped them around the string. He smiled at Estel's surprised expression.

"It will make it stronger. That's what everyone says. I do it because it's my good luck charm."

Tying off the now taught strong, he handed it back to Estel. The string now glittered with the golden hair in the sun.

"Thank you. It's better than before!"

"Come, let's try it out," Legolas said, nimbly hopping back down. "We need to find a log first, though."

"Why not just use the trees?" Estel asked. The other elflings had been shooting at the trees earlier.

"Because you hurt them," the blond elfling said as he searched. "How would you feel if someone shot arrows at you?"

"Not good, I suppose."

"Trees have feelings too. Many use them for target practice. It's sad. I though that the other elves would understand but they insist that it doesn't harm them for long."

"Are you a wood elf?" Estel asked. He had always been told that wood elves were far more in touch with the natural than the high elves in Rivendell. Up until now, he had thought it absurd, since all elves love nature, but his brothers never showed much sympathies for the trees the shot at back home.

"Sure am," Legolas said proudly. "I'm from Mirkwood."

At last, he found a suitable log and, with strength that amazed Estel, he pulled it upright. Walking away, taking Estel with him, he didn't stop until they were about 300 feet back, where he suddenly turned, notched an arrow and fired, everything going so smoothly it looked like a single move. The arrow flew straight and hit the log dead centre.

"Okay, your turn."

Now Estel was nervous. How could he go after that display of accuracy? But he didn't want to seem like a wimp so he took a deep breath and notched his arrow.

'Let me at least hit somewhere near it.'

He released the arrow.

It went wide, missing the target by several feet and disappearing into the trees. Estel felt his heart clenched.

"Your stance was not right," Legolas was quick to point out in a helpful tone. "You need to turn a bit more, that way you have more space to pull back. Like so." He demonstrated and Estel copied. "Okay, now lift your arm a bit more. Your fist should be aligned with your shoulder. Aim with the arrowhead. Now, let go."

Estel released and the arrow flew straight. It didn't hit with the accuracy like the Legolas' but it was close enough and a lot more accurate than he had ever hit. Excited, Estel quickly grabbed another arrow, wanting to improve on his new technique.

They practised for hours until their trembling arms urged them to call it quits. Gathering their arrows, they slowly began to make their way back to the city. Legolas showed him a short cut, which brought them alongside a wide stream. They knelt at the water edge to wash their faces and hands. They cleaned themselves in silence for a while until Estel felt a splash of cold water on him. He shot Legolas an accusing look, wet bangs plastered to his face. The elf laughed and splashed him again.

Estel reached down for more water and encountered the bottom of the shallow water. Smiling he scooped up a handful of wet mud and slung it. It made a satisfying squish as it hit the elf on the chest. Legolas gathered an even bigger mud ball and threw it. It caught Estel smack in the face and he lost his balance and fell into the water.

"Estel!" Legolas leaned forward, worriedly.

The water wasn't deep but the young human could have hit his head against a rock or something beneath the surface. Luckily, he stood, unharmed though dripping with mud and water.

"Are you okay?"

Estel didn't answer and the elf moved closer. Suddenly, Estel's hands shot up and caught the elfling by the wrists and pulled hard. Legolas pitched forward and landed in the water with a surprised shriek. He swiftly resurfaced, sputtering and in shock. Estel was glowing with victory.

"I win!"

"You cheated!"

"No, you did!"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Cheater!"

Legolas huffed and tackled the boy, sending them both back down with a huge splash. After several dunks and too many mouthfuls of water, they dragged themselves to shore and laid on the soft grass, trying to dry off in the late evening sun as they watched the clouds go by through the spaces in the canopy, pointing out any that resembled animals. Legolas found the best, which was shaped like a dragon, though Estel swore it was a mushroom.

"We should get back. My ada must be looking for me and I'm sure yours is too," Legolas said, turning his head to face Estel.

"Yeah, I guess…Race ya!"

He sprung up and took off down the path. Having had a good head start, Estel looked behind him and noted with satisfaction that the elfling wouldn't be able to catch up; he could even see him behind him! He ran even faster anyway. The city gates were just around the corner. He rounded it and…nearly ran into Legolas, who was calmly standing there. Estel fell on his rear in surprise and exhaustion, wet hair clinging to his face and neck. He took several gulps of breath before speaking.

"How…how did you get here first?"

Legolas looked perfectly relaxed. His hair wasn't out of place. He wasn't even breathing heavily. The blond simply motioned to the trees behind him.

"…So?" Estel asked, confused.

"It is easier to travel by tree than it is by ground. Here, you forgot this."

He handed Estel his bow and quiver, making the young man blush at having forgotten it.

"Let's go. It will be dark soon."

They chatted about trivial though fun things. Since Legolas seemed to be following him, Estel led the way to the pavilion where he and his family were staying. Reaching the spiralling stairs, they fell silent, disappointed that it was time to part.

"It was really fun. Can we play again tomorrow?" Estel asked, eager for another day of adventures.

Legolas' smile, however, lessened and he shifted on his feet.

"I can't."

"Oh…Well, how about the day after that? My brothers should be back then and they can—"

"No. I have things to do then also."

"Surely, you can come the day after that?"

"I don't think so…Today was actually the only day I could spend some time on my own."

Estel's elation was quickly dissipating. Had the elf only played with him today because he was bored? Legolas had been so nice to him…had it just been a temporary thing?

"Fine…sure…" he said, hugging his quilt to his chest. "It's okay. You probably have better things to do. What's it matter what I think…After all, I'm just a human, ain't I?"

With that he ran up the steps before the elfling could reply.

Legolas stared in shock. He hadn't meant it like that. He wasn't even sure what Estel had meant with the "only human" comment. He would have gladly pushed away all the training and lessons that he had to undergo, but he had already begged his father a free day to explore and he doubted he would get a second.

'Without Estel, another day wouldn't be very fun anyway…But how could he say that I don't care what he thinks…That was so…mean…'

Putting on a brave face, Legolas turned and walked away, not wanting to appear as hurt by the boy's comment as he really was.

Tbc…

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A/N: Not really sure where the heck I am going with this but I just thought the idea to be cute.

Read & Review, please.


	2. Not One Of Us

Title: Everlasting

Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine

Rating: T

Summary: see chapter one

Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of its characters. Any and all unrecognizable characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intent to entertain.

* * *

Elrond stepped into the dark room, frowning to find the curtains still drawn and a lump still occupying the centre of the large bed. His sharp hearing picked up the heavy, uneven breathing and he knew the boy was wide awake. As to why he was inside, in bed, however, puzzled the lord.

"Estel?"

He sat down on the edge and awaited patiently but when the boy didn't respond he leaned over and lifted the quilts. Grey eyes peeped up at him from under the thick cloth.

"Aren't you a bit too old to be afraid of monsters?"

In no mood for jibes, Estel grabbed the blanket back and buried himself beneath the layers.

Elrond frowned at the uncharacteristic behaviour. Estel was not a morning person, but it was almost noon! Plus, for reasons unknown to him, the boy had gone to bed far earlier than usual last night, mumbling something about not feeling well and excusing himself from the dinner table.

"Are you still feeling ill?"

"No," was the muffled reply.

Foreseeing a long conversation at hand, Elrond leaned back against the headrest, listing whatever was ailing the young King of Men.

"Did you hurt yourself yesterday during archery?"

"No."

"Did you have a nightmare last night?"

"No."

"Do you miss your brothers?"

"N--Yes."

"Is that why you are hiding?"

"I'm not hiding."

"Estel…" Taking hold of the sheets, he gently pried it out of the small fingers. "Pray tell me, son, what is the matter?"

With his cover now gone, Estel grabbed a pillow and covered his head.

"Nothing," he muttered unconvincingly. He released a hiccupped sob, quickly biting his lip, hoping that his ada hadn't heard it.

Of course, he had. Ignoring Estel's protests, Elrond pulled away the pillow and was shocked to see red brimmed eyes leaking tears staring up at him. He gathered his son in his arms and held him close, stroking the wavy hair. The body relented and relaxed against his and Estel buried his tear streaked face in his shoulder.

"Estel? What is the matter?"

"Everyone hates me!"

Elrond couldn't reply at once. He had suspected something along the line of this, but never so soon or uttered with such defeated anguish. Inwardly he cursed the perfection of the Elven race and he knew that, when preached by the less humble, the gift of the Elves could in fact be nothing more than a cruel curse upon all those who didn't possess it.

"That's not true, Estel."

"Yes it is! First Elladan and Elrohir left didn't want me to come with them. Then the other children didn't want me to practise with them. And...and...and..." He hiccupped again, unable to continue. Just thinking about how Legolas had used him was enough to make him cry.

"Hush, child." Elrond kissed the tangled hair as he rocked the boy. "First of all, your brothers love you. I can't even begin to explain how much they care about you. Yes, it is because you are too young, but not because you are human. And they fear that you might push yourself too far or get hurt. Never think, for one moment, that either of them dislike you."

"You think?" Estel asked, still a bit unsure.

"I know," he corrected. Tucking the small head beneath his chin, he continued. "As for the others... They are but elflings and know nothing about Men. Surely their parents have overshadowed their young minds with careless information. They don't know the real Estel, and so they can't taunt the real Estel."

"…Huh?" He blinked. Elves always spoke in riddles and it could get rather confusing at times, which, he supposed, was the point of speaking in riddles.

Smiling at the look of confusion on the boy's face, Elrond stood and carried him over to the heavy drapes, pushing them aside to step onto the patio. Estel squinted at the sudden sunlight.

"What do you see?"

"Caras Galadhon."

"No, simply look at what is before you."

A few silent moments before a shrug.

"Trees."

"Yes. And what about the them?"

"They are red and yellow."

"Because...?"

"It's fall."

"Right." Setting the boy down on the railing, with an arm around the waist to keep him from falling, he continued, "Nature is slowly causing the trees to die. Life won't return until spring. On the outside, anyways. However," he laid a hand on the boy's chest, "nature cannot influence the heart of the forest. It cannot dampen its inhabitants' spirits. Just like those elflings cannot dampen your spirit."

Estel smiled at the encouraging words. He could always count on his father for support. Those stupid elflings were just jerks; for all he knew and cared, Elrond was his father. The best father in all of Middle-earth, in fact.

"Estel! What are you still doing in your sleepwear, for Valar's sakes? Get down here!"

Peering over the railing, he smiled to find two identical faces smiling back up at him.

"I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow?" he called down.

"Elladan's horse got a limp so we had to come back. But we managed to gather some of those sweet berries for you," Elrohir said, holding up a sizable pouch.

"Be right there!"

Allowing his father to lead him back into his room, Estel smiled. His family loved him. They didn't pretend or lie to him. They gave him all the attention and comfort he could ever hope for. And everyone else…

Blue eyes faded in and out of his thoughts. He suppressed the image.

'I don't need friends…I don't need you, Legolas…You don't have to be my friend…'

Despite it all, he secretly wished that he did.

* * *

"You're very quiet this evening, little leaf."

Legolas turned from where he was sitting in the window looking out over the great forest, now lit with glowing lanterns and filled with fair voices. Shifting in his seat, he smiled slightly at the tall blond coming towards him, long robes swirling silently with each step.

"I'm just a bit tired, ada."

Thranduil raised a brow. Legolas was infamous for going many days without sleep, and would rather eat carrots than admit that he was feeling the least bit tired. Yet last night he had retired far earlier than usual, which in turns meant that the child should be feeling fully rested.

"And why is that?" he asked, taking a seat on the couch beneath the window and patted the space beside him.

Legolas obediently slipped from the narrow window ledge to the more comfortable cushion, then changed his mind and climbed into his elder's lap, laying his head against the king's chest to listen to the steady beat of the strong heart. Thranduil rested his chin on the child's head, running his fingers through the golden strands.

"Am I a bad person, ada?"

The question made him blink out of his reverie in surprise. Leaning back a bit, he lifted the child's chin.

"Where did you ever get such an absurd idea?"

Legolas hesitated before shrugging.

"I was just wondering..."

Thranduil raised an inquisitive brow but the child did not continue. They remained sitting for several minutes before a polite knock on the door alerted them that their escort was there. Rising and placing his son on his own feet, Thranduil knelt before him, holding both shoulders firmly, his green eyes probing his son's blue ones.

"Your heart is as pure and bright as your inner glow, my child. Anyone who fails to see it is too blind and does not appreciate it. I am extremely proud to have been gifted with you as my son. You owe no excuse to anyone."

Legolas smiled. He held his father's opinions above everyone else's, even the Valar's. In his eyes there wasn't a single soul in Middle-earth that could ever measure up to his father's.

"Thank you, Ada." Wrapping his arms around the king, he buried his face in the soft curtain of golden hair, whispering, "I love you."

"And I love you." He wiped away the wet trail on the youngster's cheeks with his thumbs. "Come now, its time to celebrate."

Rising to his feet, he held out a hand, which Legolas happily took and they left the room.

'As long as I have my ada, I need no one else,' Legolas thought brightly as he walked beside the taller blond.

Estel's upset face haunted him, though.

'No one else…'

* * *

The feast was an immense success. Dignitaries from all over Middle-earth mingled and laughed as they ate and drank. The Elven minstrels played music alternating between flowing, harmonious tunes and merry, care-free folk songs. Conversation carried on and on, some of great importance, others of simple every day activities.

Neither held much interest amongst the children, who quickly scrambled off after desert had been served to play well in range of the adults but far enough not to disturb them with their shouts and squeals. Most were of Elven kind though there were some Dwarves and a small group of humans. All three kept to their race, ignoring the other. The elflings climbed in the towering mellorn trees while the young Dwarves remained to play between the ragged rocks boulders. The young Edain children happily chased each other around the large trunks of the ancient trees, playing knights and orcs.

Estel watched them from the shadowed path. Biting his lip, he decided it best to go to the Edain. Jogging over his mood lightened at their excited chatter. None of them stepped away, though they were all too engrossed in their game to really notice him. Above in the trees the elflings fell strangely silent as they watched him near the group which now stood in a large circle, discussing who would play what.

"You'll be the warrior with the white horse,' a boy pointed to the other beside him as he sorted them out.

"I'll be the maiden in distress!" curly haired girl stated, being one of the few girls.

"I'm the leader of the Rohan army! Nothing can out run our horses!" a boy with sandy hair, no doubt from Rohan, boasted. "Rohan's horses are the fastest in all Middle- earth!"

Estel frowned at the statement.

"No, they are not."

All heads turned to him. He didn't know that he had spoken his thoughts out loud. The first boy, who had been pointing out their roles, sneered and stepped up, the blond Rohirim behind him.

"Oh, really? Who are you to doubt the power of Rohan's steeds?"

Estel gulped silently. He had meant no disrespect, but all those who had the smallest amount of knowledge on horses knew that Elven steeds could not be out done, unless of course by a Maiar.

"Elven horses are faster, but the horses of Rohan are almost just as fast, " he tried to appease.

"Those prissy ponies are wimps, "he girl sneered and the others nodded their agreements.

The elves, who had been snickering softly in the trees at Estel's predicament, stiffened at the turn of events. One by one, they free fell many feet from the branches, landing silently and startling the young humans, who had not kept in mind that they were indeed on Elven territory.

"Care to repeat that?" the same brown-haired elfling from the day before demanded.

Everyone fell silent. Even the Dwarves, who had been minding their own business, now stood watching the building conflict.

Not backing down, the young Edain squared his shoulders.

"I thought elves had perfect hearing?"

Behind him his friends giggled and the elflings glowered dangerously.

"Amazing! I didn't think mankind capable of thinking," the brown-haired elfling said in mocked shock.

The immortals now laughed openly in the mortals' faces.

Estel watched on, caught between both sides. Why did he have to open his big mouth?

"It's no big deal, guys—"

"Get lost, Estel!" the elfling snarled.

"Estel?" the leader of the Edain laughed. "What kind of girly name is that? Surely Elven. Everything about Elves are all dainty and prissy."

The others were almost rolling on the ground, howling with laugher.

"Elves have done much more for Middle-earth than mankind ever did!" Estel growled, which caused everyone to fall silent: the Elves curious as to what he could possibly know of their kind; the Edain children confused as to why he would side with the Elves; and the Dwarves stopped their whispering amongst each other, completely confused altogether.

"Glorfindel of Gondolin is the only being who has ever fought and defeated a Balrog. And he returned from the Halls of Mandos. And he is an elf."

As much as they really didn't like Estel, the elfings nodded proudly at that, having heard the tales from their parents.

"So? Isildur was the one who cut the ring from Sauron's very hand!" one of the other boys challenged.

"Isildur was a weak excuse of a person. He should have thrown the ring back into Mt. Doom like any fool with a brain would have done. Instead he kept it and it got him killed. It's because of your kind that Middle-earth's greatest threat is still out there somewhere, waiting for its master to call it!" another, brasher elfling accused.

A loud murmur erupted from the elves. Some of the Edain children lowered their heads somewhat in shame.

"You can't fault them for something that happened a long time ago. Everyone makes mistakes," Estel tried to pacify.

"Whose side are you on?" the Edain boy asked venomously.

"He's not one of us, so he obviously belongs to you," the lead elfling spoke up before Estel could. "All you mortals are alike."

"Never compare the keenness of the Dwarves with that of Man," a red-haired dwarf stomped over, irked by the elfling's last line.

The entire clearing was filled with loudly shouted insults as the three groups collided. Estel frantically tried to calm things down.

"None of this is necessary! Let's just stop this right now!"

"You started it!" the blond boy from Rohan growled. Enraged for some reason, he lashed out with a balled fist, which connected solidly with Estel's nose. With a pained cry, Estel fell back onto the soft grass.

Though no one really cared that he was hurt, they used this as an excuse to retaliate. Hands and feet thrashed about wildly, connecting with faces and torso's and before long many were bleeding or bruising. Shouted curses accompanied each punch and kick.

Estel himself lay curled on the floor, nursing his heavily bleeding nose, his hands stained with the crimson substance. He failed to notice the red-haired dwarf who appeared behind him, scowling at whom he believed to be the trouble maker. Clumping over, he kick the hurting boy in the ribs with a stocky foot.

Estel cried out in shock and rolled away. He continued rolling, unknowingly to where the ground slanted downhill for almost a hundred meters. Unable to stop, he went into a downward tumbled, breaking through many shrubs, which scratched his skin and tore at his clothes.

A large bush stopped his rolling, catching him in an awkward angle. Breathing painfully, he could just faintly hear the loud voices of the adults who had arrived at the clearing far above him, breaking up the fight.

He tried to call to them. To let them know that he was down there. His voice, however, was nothing more than a gasp as he struggled to fight back the pain. He felt tired. Very tired.

'Just a little rest…Just for a while…'

He lost consciousness.

Tbc…

* * *

Read & Review please. 


	3. My Savior, My Friend

Title: Everlasting

Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine

Rating: T

Summary: see chapter one.

Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of its characters. Any and all unrecognizable characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intent to entertain.

A/N: Holy crap! An update! After more than a year! God bless you all for your patience and, who knows, maybe chapter four will be up in 2006! (Just kidding...actually, no seriously.)

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"'We are most sorry, my lord. Please do not let our son's negligence ruin your evening of celebration."

Celeborn nodded and the couple walked off, tugging their reluctant child behind them to find a healer for the boy's black eye.

"I must say, your lordship, you do indeed throw interesting feasts."

The silver haired lord merely raised a fine brow at the wizard and those sitting at the table laughed lightly.

No one had been laughing upon entering the clearing to find a flailing heap of youngsters, cursing and pulling each others' hair and clothes. One mother received a rather large bruise to her cheek where her precious daughter had struck her, caught in the heat of the battle. After many threats and physical force, the adults had been able to separate the rebellious children.

"800 years ago it would have been my sons amongst them," Elrond noted, relieved the two had outgrown the rebellious attitudes they had displayed as youths.

"Speaking of your sons, where are they?" Gandalf asked, sipping his goblet of fine wine.

"As always, they became too restless with the serenity of the feast. They wish to do some night hunting and have gone to the rooms to gather there weapons."

"And what of your youngest, Elrond? I have yet to meet this Estel you speak so well of," Thranduil remarked, seated opposite the Lord of Rivendell.

"He has gone to bed. He wasn't feeling very well," Elrond said, though didn't believe the claim himself.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Have you..."

The elven king trailed off when he spied Haldir quickly making his way through the crowd to the table where the special guests were seated. The march warden's fair face was strained, something rather unusual for the usually indifferent warrior. Galadriel and Celeborn tensed, quickly picking up on his concern as he bowed before them.

"My lord and lady, I truly despise to carry forth this ill news, but orcs have passed into our borders. They move along the north, away from the city."

"They must be dealt with," Celeborn said at once, rising to stand. "Return the guests to their chambers and make sure they have escorts. Send warriors out to meet the enemy head on. They must not enter Caras Galadon, nor leave these woods still breathing."

Nodding curtly, Haldir disappeared through the crowd, his clear voice calling the warriors to him as he appointed their tasks.

"It is not often that orcs reach so deep in our woods. What of the patrol watches?" Galadriel asked her husband, her fair face puzzled.

"I fear the enemy was too overwhelming for them. I will send a troop out to find them." He turned to Elrond, Thranduil and Gandalf. "It would be best for you to return to your chambers with your families."

Elrond was about to lend his assistance when hurried footfalls caught his attention. The dark-haired being of Elrohir skidded to a stop before the elders, panting heavily. Elrond rounded the table to grasp his son by the shoulders, his worries increasing at the fearful expression on his child's face.

"Elrohir, what—"

"Father, there are orcs in the woods!"

"We know, Elrohir. Calm down," Galadriel advised him. "Where is your brother?"

"Elladan…_pant_…took his horse…he…empty bed…_gasp_."

"Elrohir, calm down!" Elrond ordered. "Where is Elladan? Is he injured?"

"Nay! It's..._gasp_...It's...Estel. He is out in the forest!"

All sounds faded away around him at the words. For the longest of moments Elrond could only stand there, watching his son in disbelief.

"No...No, he's in bed," he explained softly, trying to pacify both his son and himself. "He went to sleep earlier in the evening."

"Nay, ada! His bed is untouched and the sentries say that he never returned!"

Elrond swallowed hard, fighting the growing fear as it brewed in his stomach, slowly reaching his heart. Opening his eyes, he put on a strong face for the sake of the panicking twin.

"He wouldn't wander out of the city, Elrohir. My lord..." He turned to his father-in-law who had already taken action, pulling a guard aside and addressing the situation.

"Our soldiers will find him, Elrond," Galadriel assured. "They are well trained in the art of tracking."

Elrond nodded numbly, his grip on Elrohir the only thing keeping him standing. A strong hand took hold of his upper arm as Thranduil led him to a chair, sitting him down and handing him a glass of wine.

"From what I heard of Estel, he is strong and sensible. He is no doubt safe and sound."

"Yes," Elrond took a small sip. "Yes, he is. We will find him soon enough."

Despite their confidence, they all felt an unease gnawing deep within them. The sooner Estel was found, the better.

* * *

Estel awoke with a stinging pain in his head and a persistent throb in his ribs. Shakily rising to his elbows, he shook his head, regretting it immensely when dots started to dance before his eyes. Unable to resist groaning, he sat up, crying out softly when placing pressure on his arms brought forth a lancing pain through his wrists, most noticeably his left which was badly bruised, the bone looking sickly out of place beneath the skin.

"Where am I?" he asked himself softly, looking around the dark area.

Brush and undergrowth seemed to stretch for miles in every direction. Above his head the trees formed an ever-dark canopy, blocking out the stars and moon. Looking up the steep sloop he had fallen down, he couldn't even see the top. Unknown to him it had been far longer and steeper than he had thought. He couldn't even hear any sound of the celebration. In fact, the entire wood was silent.

"Hello?" he cried out hoarsely. "Can anyone hear me?"

Nothing stirred except the wind through the leaves

Though it was very hard and painful, he managed to get to his feet, though needed to lean against a tree trunk behind him as he gasped for breath against the pain.

Looking around he shuddered. Lothlorien had looked so beautiful when he had first arrived but now the trees' towering heights and massive limbs appeared terribly imposing, even scary. Even their glow put him at ill-ease; it was as if a dark shadow had swallowed all hopes of light.

"Ada..," he whispered. "Ada, where are you?"

Stumbling, he started towards the slope of the hill. Ignoring the pain, he began to scramble up. However, the earth was too soft and his body too tired and he slipped back, gasping when his ribs and arm made painful contact with the ground. Still, he didn't give up and tried again.

And again.

And again.

After several attempts he laid panting on the forest ground.

"Don't panic. Don't panic. Remember what Elladan always says; 'No matter what, stay calm'," he told himself.

Taking a deep breath, he stood once more. He obviously couldn't climb back up, so he had to find another way. Looking around, he decided to follow the ridge until he found better ground to climb up, or maybe he would come across one of the patrols; he was going to be alright.

Feeling more at ease, though still in pain, he started walking.

The events resurfaced in his mind as he gingerly made his way over the terrain. He tried to remember the good things, hoping to use them for strength; his brothers as they wrestled about on the expansive rugs of Last Homely House, his father as he sat at the fireplace engrossed in a heavy volume, Gandalf's face lit up by the fireworks.

Bright blue eyes sparkled and for a moment he heard the chiming laugher of a young elfling.

At first he smiled too, but that memories suddenly turned bad; the elflings laughing and mocking him, the Edain children sneering and calling him a traitor, always being shunned by others.

"It doesn't matter. ada and Elladan and Elrohir love me," he comforted himself. "They will always be there for me and…"

A sudden thought struck him. A thought he had never had before.

His family was of elven blood. Elves lived forever, but they sailed the sea. He had heard his father discussing it with Glorfindel before they had left for Lothlorien. His father had said that he would too sail soon in the future, to be reunited with his wife in the Undying lands. Elladan and Elrohir would surely go with him, eager to see their mother again. And that would leave him, Estel, alone. Alone in a world where nobody accepted him.

"No, ada would never leave me."

But he himself would have to leave Rivendell when he got bigger. Grown men never stayed home. They travelled and hunted and fought in battle. But fought for whom? Where did his allegiance lie? Would he fight in the name of the elves, who had raised and care for him? Or was it time that he reclaimed the mortal blood that flowed through his body?

All happy memories were quickly shrouded in darkness of fear and doubt.

As his internal battle started, he failed to notice the small trickle of earth that had shifted from movement on the ridge. It wasn't until he caught a slight glow out of the corner of his eye did he notice the other's presence but it was too late. Two hands grabbed his shoulder and he cried out, blindly trashing to escape, the pain only frightening him more.

"Estel, calm down!"

The fair voice made him look into the wide blue eyes as the elfling supported him.

"Legolas?" he asked, doubting his eyesight. "What are you doing here?"

"Thank the Valar!" the blond breathed, so relieved to have found the boy alive that he forgot about their 'argument'. "I saw you fall and--you're bleeding!"

"What...Why did you come after me?"

Blue eyes blinked at the question.

"I was worried, of course."

"Why?" Estel pushed on, allowing the blond to examine his injuries.

"Because you're my friend. I have to admit that I doubted it myself at first but...when I saw how the others were treating you I was going to help you but then the fight started and the next thing I knew you disappeared over the ledge. I never felt so scared; I thought you were dead."

The sincerity struck him and he looked away, trying to sort out his thoughts.

"…Estel? Yesterday, when we had returned to the city, did I say something wrong?"

"I thought so...or...you said that..." He hissed when the blond prodded the broken bone, the finger immediately withdrawing with a soft apology.

"What did I say? Whatever it was I didn't mean anything bad by it."

"You didn't want to play with me anymore," Estel finally confessed. "I asked if we could play again and you said no."

Removing his outer tunic, Legolas began to wrap the boy's arm with it, his face puzzled as he worked.

"I didn't say that. I said I had things to do."

"You just said that as an excuse. You didn't want to play with me anymore, did you?"

"Of course I did! Yesterday was the most fun I had had in a long time! I don't have much time at home to play. Most of the time I have tutors and I'm not allowed outside the palace's walls without an adult and those aren't much fun. Except for ada, that is. He's usually busy with his duties but whenever he can he comes with me into the forest. He is a good climber! Even with his robes on he can climb faster than me! One time we were climbing and his crown fell off! We had to search for a long time before we found it in..." Catching on that he was rambling, he stopped himself. "Sorry, I get carried away some times."

Estel hadn't heard the last part. Instead he stared with wide eyes at the elfling before him, the words running through his mind.

Tutors...palace...ada...robes...crown...!

Legolas jumped when the boy gasped loudly, thinking he had tied the make-shift bandage around the broken arm too harshly. The look on Estel's face made he frown slightly. It wasn't of pain, but of stunned realization.

"Estel?"

"Y-You're royalty!"

He simply nodded, failing to see what was so shocking about it.

"Yes...so?"

"I'm sorry, you highness! Forgive me!" Estel gushed, bowing his head in belated respect, the action making him miss Legolas rolling his eyes.

"Don't do that, please," Legolas said, lifting the boy's head. "It's not like I'm a king or anything."

"But you're a prince, right?"

Having finished binding the arm as best he could, the blond sat back on his heels.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah. Who's your father?"

"Lord Thranduil of Mirkwood."

"**The** Lord Thranduil!" Estel gasped, accepting the hand that helped him to his feet.

"I prefer to call him ada," Legolas said, slinging the uninjured arm over his shoulder to support the boy.

"Wow! I've heard stories of your father, and of Mirkwood."

Tales of Mirkwood differed a lot in the outside world. Some spoke of its elven king who had the power to keep evil and darkness away from his people. Others marvelled at the legendary treasure that was said to be hidden deep in the underground labyrinths. There were also tales of the wood elves being cruel and capturing travellers and of the king whose greed was as great as Men though Estel didn't believe those; Elves would never do such things.

"How's that?"

Looking down at the elfling's work, Estel tested the bandages and found them comfortable and his injuries less painful.

"Much better."

"It's just temporarily; we have to get you to a healer." Eyeing the sloop he had easily descended moments earlier, he knew climbing them wouldn't be too much of a challenge since he had elven stealth and balance. However, Estel's injuries (and heritage) denied him such privileges.

Understanding the blond's thoughtful expression, Estel pointed with his good hand in the direction in which he had begun walking. Legolas merely nodded, believing too that that was the best choice of action in this situation. Taking hold of the boy's hand, he used his keen sight to guide Estel, avoiding as much obstructions like sticks or rocks, making sure to keep the ridge on their left.

"Do you really want to be my friend, Legolas?"

Having been walking a while in silence, the question took him off guard.

"Why not? You're nice, and a lot of fun to play with."

"Really?" Estel's eyes widened at the admittance.

"Why do you ask such a question, Estel?"

Pretending to focus intently on stepping over a log, he delayed his answer for a while.

"I...don't have any friends."

Slowing their pace, the prince now walked alongside his human companion.

"What do you do all day then? Who do you play with back home?"

"My brothers…and ada…and sometimes Glorfindel, though he's often on border patrol. And Erestor lets me help him with chores after lessons."

Now it was Legolas' turn to be surprised.

"Glorfindel? The Balrog Slayer of Gondolin? You know him?"

The blond seneschal's name always got such reactions and it offered Estel some pride that he knew the warrior personally.

"He's ada's best friend and lives with us in the Last Homely House."

Legolas was quick to put two and two together, blue eyes growing wider, as did his smile of disbelieving excitement.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell is your father!" Common sense was quick to catch up, though, and Legolas gave the boy a new look-over, studying his ears in particular. "But…if he's your father…why do you have Edain ears?"

"He's not my real father," he admitted. "He took me in after my parents..." His trail off was enough.

"They still love you." Legolas gave him an encouraging smile, somewhat sad. "My mother sailed to the Undying Lands a long time ago...but I know she still loves me. Fathers and mothers always love you, no matter what. And you're really special."

"Why?"

"Because you have two fathers who love you a lot. And a mother. And two brothers."

It wasn't something he had ever considered, but it made sense after all. It succeeded in bringing a smile to his face.

"I guess your right. Do you have any brothers?"

"No. I'm an only child. But ada plays with me every day so I'm never lonely. And--" His excited chatter was abruptly cut short as something caught his attention, the blue eyes scanning the dark woods around them warily.

"What is it?" Estel asked.

He didn't answer, eyes finally focusing on one particular spot, ears straining to verify his suspicions though when they did he prayed desperately that he had misheard.

"Legolas?" Estel insisted, grabbing a slender arm. "Legolas, what's out there?"

Swallowing, the blond met the wide, grey eyes.

"Orcs..." He shivered. "They are coming this way."

Tbc...

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A/N: Wow, that certainly took one entire year to write! **(rolls eyes)**

Why didn't Galadriel or Celeborn detect the Orcs sooner? Who the heck cares? I just needed to get those mutated freaks into the woods. End of story.

Read & Review, please.


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